The Only Truth That Sticks
by HecateA
Summary: Betraying their own blood was a family tradition. Perhaps Andromeda needed the reminder when her own daughter managed to surprise her. Oneshot.


**Happy birthday to Mama Bird! I was a bad friend this year: part of her present is somewhere in the bowels of Post Canada making its way to her, and the other part (ie: this story) was late because my immune system decided to collapse. To compensate, I made it extra-long, which worked out quite nicely since I got to play with some new characters this time around.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, as we all know by now.**

* * *

 **The Only Truth**

 _Betrayal is the only truth that sticks._

-Arthur Miller

* * *

When Andromeda Black first kissed Ted Tonks in their fifth year, in a potions classroom they'd spent extra time cleaning up, she knew exactly what she had done. She had betrayed her blood.

But the truth of the matter was that that truth simply couldn't rival with the way her veins lit up when she touched him.

She betrayed her blood happily. Again and again and again and again and again. None of her friends knew, but soon Ted's friends did. They became her friends. They covered for her, while they were betraying her blood. And by the end of the school year, she had absolutely no idea how in the world she was going to survive a Summer at home, away from him. There was no way that she would be able to get away nearly enough.

On the ride home aboard the Hogwarts Express, Ted was brilliant enough to stop by her carriage with Susan Bones, the other Hufflepuff prefect, and borrow Andromeda on account of an imaginary prefect meeting. As soon as they were out of sight, Suzie flashed Andromeda a smile and made her way back to her own friends. She and Ted found an empty compartment, and he kissed her fiercely.

"Don't let the purebloods get you down," Ted said.

"I won't," Andromeda smiled. He kissed her again, his hand digging itself deeper and deeper into her curls. And from this, Andromeda drew all the strength that she would need: simply by remembering that they would never run out of time to betray her blood. Again and again and again and again.

* * *

She woke up to a sound she, and the rest of the world for that matter, wasn't used to hearing: Ted Tonks shouting.

"I don't care who her next of kin is," Ted was telling someone. He sounded far, and as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes, she realized that he was standing outside the door to a very small and very neat white room. It wasn't her bedroom, but she was in bed.

"I don't care, look what they did to her," Ted said. "Thank God she was strong enough to Apparate, or she'd be dead!"

"Mr Tonks," the healer said. "Until the Aurors arrive, it is not within St-Mungo's jurisdiction to ban the Black family from the premise…"

All of a sudden, Andromeda had never felt more awake. Her mind, her vision, her memory—it was all clear now.

"Ted…" she said. Her voice was raw, she may have been screaming for days. "Ted…"

He heard her and was at her side in a moment. His handsome face was pale, his cheeks not as rounded when he wasn't smiling. His jumper was inside out, as if he'd pulled it on while running out the door.

"Thank God," he said taking her hands. He sunk to his knees next to her, his forehead resting on the side of her bed. "Thank God, Andra, thank God…"

He took a deep breath and looked up at her. He reached out a hand and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. She was thankful for the touch and closed her eyes; for now, that was enough. But when she opened her eyes and saw the healer again, she sucked in a deep breath. All of a sudden, she remembered how much her body had hurt the last time she had felt it.

"Ted," she said suddenly. Yet as quickly as she spoke, she had no idea how to explain the enormity of how _wrong_ it all… "Ted, I… she hexed me. I don't know what she did, but she said she wouldn't… Wouldn't let me dishonour the family name and… Ted, I've never felt pain like that before and I think the baby… Ted, I think I lost…"

Ted bounced up and sat on the bed next to her. She buried her head against his stomach. She couldn't tell what her lungs were doing, whether they were trying to take in as much air as they could or scream as loudly as possible.

"I know," Ted said kissing her hair and holding her close. "I know, they told me… I'm so sorry, Andromeda. I'm so sorry."

The healer stood in the door and watched. She heard him asked another healer, walking by, to owl the Aurors office again and tell them to come immediately: they had a confirmed assault. It was a whispered conversation, but years of paranoia had attuned her ear. Andromeda felt like she heard it all from across a wall, as if she was underwater, as if it was a foreign language. She felt herself shaking and she felt Ted shake too, as he cried with her. Still, his grip was strong.

Eventually, the healer came in again.

"Mrs. Black," the healer said. She had an avalanche of blond curls held back by a sparkling barrette. "Hello Mrs. Black, I'm Healer McGee—but you can call Addison, Ted and I were in Hufflepuff together, he's one of my trainees. This here is a pain drought you ought to take before the last one wears off…"

Ted let go of her gently and helped her lay down again once she'd drank her potion.

"You should know that there are Aurors coming, Mrs. Black—"

"Please don't call me that, she said. "Call me Andromeda."

"Of course, Andromeda," the healer said kindly. "There are Aurors who are on their way—they'll guard the hospital, to make sure your family doesn't enter. They will want a statement from you, if you're up to it."

"Okay," she said quietly. "Okay."

"First thing in the morning, one of our diagnostical experts will be in to see you. That way we'll know exactly what curse you were hit with, and what we can do to help."

"Okay," Andromeda said. "Do you… do you know if it's permanent?"

"I'm sorry, love. We can't tell until morning," the healer said. "I'll give you two a moment."

Ted held on to her hand and reached in a white bin on her bedside table labeled with her name. They must be the things she'd had on her when she'd been checked in. It contained her wand, which she'd managed to grab before stumbling out of the house and Apparating to Ted's flat. He also took out her ring; a golden band with two emeralds framing a diamond. She'd been carrying it around for weeks now, tucked in the folds of gowns or hanging around her neck.

"You told them," Ted said, biting his lip.

"I did," Andromeda said. She remembered saying the words:

 _I'm leaving._

 _I know I will miss dinner with Mr Malfoy._

 _I know he is a fine suitor._

 _I am going to marry somebody else._

"I said I would be there when you did," Ted said.

"I know and I knew you would be true to your word," she said. "You always are. But I didn't want them to… to hurt you."

"I wanted to be there to keep you safe," Ted said.

"My father hit me," Andromeda said, tying the hurt in her jaw to the memory. "He was going to hit me again and—and that's when I said something about the baby. I thought it would make him stop. I didn't know Bella had heard…"

"Bella," Ted said. "This was Bellatrix, who did this?"

"I didn't know she was capable of this," Andromeda said quietly. "I don't even know what she did, serves me right for avoiding those Dark Arts lessons, but whatever it was, it… it…"

"Andra, you don't have to tell me now," Ted said. "You'll just have to tell it again once the Aurors arrive…"

"I want you to know," Andromeda said. "I want you to know first. I'm so sorry. I honestly didn't think… I didn't think they were so far gone. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Ted said. He stretched out on the bed next to her, and scooped her up again. His face was buried in her hair and she could feel him taking her in. "I'm just so thankful that you were able to get out. I'm just so thankful that we got you here on time…"

Andromeda didn't reply, but was thankful for how close she was. Just like he had when she'd first told him about the baby, the greatest strength Ted could give her was his silence and his company.

"Is this a bad time?" Somebody knocking on the door said. Andromeda looked up at the team of Aurors that had arrived.

"I'm alright," Andromeda said but it sounded weak.

"Take your time, Miss," the one who seemed to be in charge said.

Ted helped her sit up, and gathered all her curls over one shoulder, just like she liked to wear her hair at school.

"I'd like to wear my ring," Andromeda said softly. Ted nodded and fished it from his pocket, sliding it on her finger.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them.

"You're Alastair Moody," she told the Auror. "I recognize you from the paper."

"Yeah, they've got a lot to say about me," Mad-Eye grunted, drawing a chair and sitting down. "Pleased to meet you."

* * *

The wedding was small, but it meant that Andromeda got to dance and shake hands with everybody there, that she met every single one of Ted's little cousins, that there were two slices of cake per guest, that everybody got to dance to a song that they wanted to hear, that everybody present was happy to be there and in a good mood… it was wonderful.

She felt a hand on her waist, and there was Ted looking handsome as ever in his wedding robes. She smiled up at him, but he looked concerned. He pushed a curl from her face.

"One of your little cousins said I looked like Cinderella, and I don't know what that means," Andromeda said. Ted laughed.

"Muggle fairy tale," Ted said. "That must've been Gwen. What she really meant is that you look absolutely beautiful, like a princess."

"Oh," Andromeda said. She looked around. "I believe Gwen is right, this does feel like a fairy tale…"

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Of course," she said.

"I'm sorry your family isn't here," he said. "Don't let the Purebloods get you down…"

"I'm not," she said, putting a hand on his cheek—freshly shaved for the occasion. "I had the most beautiful day, Ted. There's no way the Purebloods could get me down."

Ted smiled and kissed her again.

"And from now on, I will give you the most beautiful life," he promised.

* * *

"You must be making a mistake," Andromeda told the healer. "I was hexed, when I was younger. It was dark magic…"

The healer shrugged. "I read your file, Mrs. Tonks, I know. I ran the test twice, showed it to my colleague who was just as stunned, but it looks like you're going to have a baby."

Andromeda put a hand against her mouth.

"We can run the test again if you like, ma'am," the healer offered. "Or I could ask the maternity ward's Head Healer to double-check… I'm sure Ted wouldn't mind consulting on this one."

The healer smiled and Andromeda smiled back. She could barely manage to form words, so she simply nodded.

* * *

This was their first outing with the baby. Ted had convinced her that Nymphadora wasn't nearly as breakable as she looked.

"Babies are strong," Ted had said, giving one of his fingers to Dora, who closed her chubby little hand around it. "See, she's totally got me…"

Andromeda had laughed, but really what had sealed the deal was a piece in _The Prophet_ about a Dutch Metamorphmagus who said that he could use his abilities to turn invisible. The pure horror that had shot through their bodies at the thought of an invisible baby, lost in the house, had suddenly made urgent the need to stop by Fleury and Bott's to pick up a copy of the book that the midwives at St-Mungo's had recommended about Metamorphmagus.

It was quite the lovely summer day, Andromeda had no complaints. Ted had convinced her that they had all the time in the world to stop by Florian Fortescue's for ice cream, and they were now slowly but surely making their way down Diagon Alley, Dora sleeping quite peacefully in her pram.

Andromeda was laughing at something Ted had said (wasn't she always?) when another familiar laugh caught her ear. She looked up and across the road, walking arm in arm with who Andromeda recognized as a Rodolphus Lestrange who had aged poorly, was Bella. Bellatrix.

As quickly as she could, Andromeda scooped her daughter from the pram and held her to her chest, wand drawn. Ted followed her gaze, spotted Bellatrix, and the two drew their wands simultaneously. The crowd around them started buzzing and scattering, but all Andromeda could focus on was the baby in her arms.

"Andra," he said evenly, wand up. "Why don't you head into that shop behind us."

It was the Magical Menagerie, a place that was decisively unfit for a baby, but Andromeda could not possibly think of a less appropriate place for her daughter than where they currently stood. Wand still raised, she nodded and backed away slowly.

Bellatrix laughed. "If you think I care about a blood traitor's bastard, you're dearly mistaken, though I did recall taking some measures to make sure this wouldn't… happen…"

"And it's some twisted injustice that you aren't in Azkaban for it," Ted said. "Move along, Bellatrix."

"How dare you address my wife, you filthy mudblood?" Rodulphus stepped in.

"How dare you insult my husband, you pathetic excuse for a Death Eater?" Andromeda said.

"Andra, _go,"_ Ted said urgently. "Never mind me…"

Bella laughed, but the crowd began parting as the Aurors who patrolled Diagon Alley nowadays came forwards. Bella humphed.

"I consider myself fortunate I never had to lay eyes on such a brat. But mark my words, one day I'll do more than look," Bellatrix said. She tugged on Rodulphus' hand, and the two disappeared.

Andromeda was left shaking.

* * *

She buttoned up the top button of Nymphadora's school robes again, which her daughter promptly undid.

"I'm fine, mum!" she said. Her annoyance was visible by the red tips of her hair. She was far more interested in her surroundings, looking from one end of Platform 9 ¾ to the other with big round eyes. Andromeda had seen the platform many times before she'd gone to school herself, when Bellatrix and then Narcissa had gone, but Nymphadora… had seen much less of the wizarding world.

"Oh, I know," Andromeda said, tugging her daughter to her chest. Dora let her do it, and so Andromeda knelt down in front of her. The minute the butterflies in her stomach subsided, a flush of anxiety shot its way up her chest instead.

"Do you remember what I told you about the Carrows?" Andromeda said, trying to sound casual. "And the Goyles, Crabbes, Macnairs…"

"Yes," Dora said.

"Then tell me," Andromeda said. "Tell me quick, before your father comes back…"

"I need to stay away from any family who has Death Eaters in it," Dora said.

"No, Dora, it's more complicated than that," Andromeda said. "Dora, you _need_ to get this right…"

"I need to stay away from the families that value blood purity," Dora said more specifically. "They may or may not have explicit ties to You-Know-Who. They may or may not be Slytherin. They will use bad words like 'mudblood' and 'blood traitor.' They will come from old wizarding families."

"Right," Andromeda said. "And what are you to do if you are sorted to Slytherin?"

"Go to the headmaster and tell him I need to leave," Dora said, troubled. There was a crease between her eyebrows. "But mum, I don't want to leave Hogwarts, I've waited forever…"

"If you are in Slytherin, you must," Andromeda said. "It's a… complicated house. Beautiful, but complicated. If you get sorted in it, tell Dumbledore you mustn't stay the night and he must contact me at once. You can't even go in the dormitory, do you understand? Swear to me, Dora, that you'll do this…"

"Yes mum," she said. "But you said it yourself, Hogwarts is the only place you and Dad were ever safe. I'll be fine."

"I know you will, love," Andromeda said, gathering her daughter in her arms again. "It's my job as a mum to worry until the universe keeps you safe, you see."

"Well then I'm untouchable," Dora huffed. Andromeda heard Ted laugh behind her. Dora pulled away to go hug her father.

"You got that right, sweetheart," Ted said kissing the top of her head. "Your mother will worry you to safety, but don't forget to have fun, right?"

He slipped her a galleon to buy something to eat on the train.

"I recommend chocolate frogs, as I always do, but you pick what you like," Ted said. "And don't forget—"

"To thank the Trolley witch," Dora said.

"Good girl," Ted said. "We're going to miss you."

"We're going to miss you so, so much," Andromeda said tugging her daughter back into her arms. This time, Dora wrapped her arms around her neck and held her tightly.

As they watched the train leave, Ted slid his arm around her waist now that Dora wasn't there to call it 'gross.'

"House will be empty without her," Andromeda said.

"We can make more," Ted joked, kissing her ear.

"That's not altogether true—Dora was a miracle baby, after all, but we can always keep practicing..."

Ted chuckled in her ear.

"I know you're afraid," he said quietly as they watched the train snake further and further. "But Dora will be okay. Her teachers know who she is, and Dora has more of a head on her shoulders then you think. She's stronger than she looks, much like her mother. Besides: she's a total Hufflepuff. That house is so protective, no Slytherin will ever get _near_ her."

Andromeda actually did manage to laugh at that one.

* * *

"Being an Auror is so incredibly risky, Nymphadora," Andromeda huffed. "I don't understand why out of all the jobs you could be looking at, what with your grades and talents, it has to be…"

"Mum, I'd be brilliant at it," Dora said. "Mad-Eye Moody himself _watched_ our practical OWLs and then asked Professor Sprout to speak with me. He's been keeping an eye on me, and he says he'll vouch for me if I want to enter the Department…"

"Dora, what does he want from you?" Andromeda asked. "Why does it have to be you, placing yourself in danger, what does he see...?"

"He sees _me,"_ Dora said. "Mum, I'm not even being cocky when I say I'm _really_ good. I am. And all those years ago, when he asked me what made me think I'd want to be an Auror, I told him that I nearly wasn't born because of Dark magic."

Andromeda's stomach sank.

"I told him about you, about Dad," Dora said. "And I told him you raised me on fairy tales, always telling me that you had been _this close_ to losing it all, and that I couldn't imagine the kind of pain that would have caused."

Andromeda was quiet.

"Does your father know about this?"

"Absolutely not," Dora said.

"Then you still have to break him down," Andromeda said. "But you have my blessing."

* * *

A colleague told Ted that since Dora was an Auror, she had a room to herself on the quiet floor. When they reached said room, somebody was already there, sitting with her. Someone holding her hand, to be more exact, who let go and got up as soon as Dora looked towards the door and saw her parents.

"Dora!" Andromeda said.

The stranger sidestepped quite quickly, and let Andromeda kneel by her daughter and fret over her arm and check for a fever.

"Mum, heaven's sake, I'm not feverish," Dora said. "I'm alright. They had to regrow some bones, which was no fun, but I'm fine. I'm alright."

Andromeda took a deep breath, but Ted put a hand on her shoulder.

"Honestly, Andra," Ted said. "I talked with a colleague, healer I'd trust with my own life, and he said she was okay."

He bent down and she reached up to hold him. He was the one who turned to the other man in the room, a man with deep pockets under his eyes and an unnatural thinness to him, and said hello first.

"Mum, Dad…" Dora said uncomfortably. "This is Remus. He's-"

"A friend," Remus said quietly but firmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Dora frowned as if she disagreed profoundly but watched the series of handshakes quietly—which was how Andromeda got a sense of just how unhappy she was.

"Were you with her, in the Department of Mysteries?" Andromeda asked Remus. "Dora, is that right, what they told us? What on earth were you doing there?"

"It's a long story, one that Dora would be best at explaining," Remus said. "If you may excuse me, I think I'm needed to look after Sirius' things…"

"Sirius?" Andromeda asked. "Not like… not like Sirius Black…"

"Mum, I have a lot of explaining to do," Dora sighed. That was when Andromeda realized that she had been crying recently, her eyes were tinged with red. "Why don't you two sit… Remus, I'll see you at headquarters, won't I?"

"Maybe," he said. "I'm glad you're well—rest, and listen to the healers."

"I will," Dora said as he slipped away. If Dora's gaze wasn't so loaded and her jaw so locked, he may as well have never been there.

"He called you Dora," Ted noticed. "Not Tonks. I thought all your friends call you Tonks."

"Remus is complicated," Dora muttered to herself. "So is Sirius, actually—yes, Sirius, like Sirius Black. _The Prophet_ is going to come out with a huge story about it in a few hours, Mum, but you should probably hear it from me first…"

"But Dora, they told us you were in the Department of Mysteries—you got hurt…"

"I'll get to that," Dora said. "Just… just listen and try not to have me moved to the looney floor just yet."

* * *

Of course, as soon as Remus left after supper Dora turned around, eyebrow arched.

"How did you like him?" she asked.

"He was lovely," Andromeda said simply.

"Very polite, good head on him—strong wizard," Ted said. "He was quiet, but he was quite funny."

"So we like him?" Dora said.

"Well, it's more important that you do," Ted joked.

"I do," Dora said. "So much, it's mad. But it's important to him that you two approve. He's got all these ideas, it's a long story…"

"I think we do," Ted said looking over at Andromeda. She nodded.

"Good," Dora said. "So, you're going to have to keep that in mind when I tell you this next bit… you should also know that he wanted you to know this from the start, but I thought he should have the chance to make his own first impression before… Okay, new question. How do we feel about werewolves?"

Andromeda's eyes popped.

* * *

Andromeda had essentially been waiting all night to be in the kitchen alone with Ted, words burning at her lips.

"Married," she hissed. "They got _married._ "

"I know," Ted said, depositing dishes into the sink. Andromeda flicked her wand and a sponge got busy scrubbing. Her head whirled.

"And we weren't there," Andromeda said. She shouldn't have felt cheated, but she did.

"It happened quickly," Ted said. "We just… weren't there, I suppose."

"It happened rashly," Andromeda said. "I don't understand. First, they're not together. Then they are, then they're not, then they are again, and they're married all of a sudden."

"Andromeda, need I remind you that we found ourselves pregnant and engaged while graduating Hogwarts?" Ted said.

The sponge in the sink dropped down into the dishwater.

"That was different," Andromeda said. " _Completely_ different situation! There was nothing we could have told my family to make us alright. There's a lot that we don't know here, and that worries me."

"It worries me too, but we can't exactly ask, can we?" Ted said.

"It's not just that, Ted. If everything was sound, _why?_ Why don't we know? This feels wrong," Andromeda said.

"Scourgify," somebody in the kitchen's entrance said.

The sponge resumed its activities, and Andromeda spun around to face Remus who was standing in the doorway with a pile of dishes. Acknowledged, he crossed the kitchen with his head bow to gently deposit them in the sink. He turned to face them, and seemed to search his words for a moment.

"On May 31st, the Ministry of Magic was scheduled to vote on a new piece of legislature that would forbid lycanthropes from marrying into wizarding families," Remus said quietly. "Dolores Umbridge was sponsoring it, and she has been quite effective at passing anti-werewolf legislature in the past, notably regarding employment. The bill was presented within the Wizenmagot as an internal project—meaning there was no consultation with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures which usually regulates my kind, and by whom we have to pass if we have formal complaints or concerns to lodge with the Ministry. Dora insisted that if we were ever planning on getting married one day, we should do it before it came into effect, that way we would have a legitimate marriage should this bill pass. It didn't—because of a technicality, not because it was voted down. Perhaps this answers the question of speed."

There was a heavy, silent moment during which Andromeda wondered not only what to say to that, but also how much he had heard. She'd heard once that werewolves had particularly keen hearing even in human shape, but swatted that idea out of her mind like an annoying fly… It couldn't be true, could it?

"I can go get the rest of the dishes," Remus said before quickly making his way out of the kitchen.

* * *

When Dora came into the house, she was furious. She marched into the kitchen like she had never marched anywhere before, much less in her parents' house.

"Sit down," she told the pair of them sharply.

"Nymphadora Tonks—" Andromeda protested.

"Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks _Lupin_ ," Dora said. Her hair flared red. "Sit down. I'm not a child and I have to talk to you."

She and Ted sat at the kitchen table, mostly because they had no idea what else could possibly be done. Dora crossed her arms.

"I'm pregnant," she said sharply.

"Dora!" Andromeda said, standing up.

"Sit down," Dora said, just as sharply.

"Dora, this is amazing—" Ted said. "Sweetheart…"

"Yeah, it is amazing," Dora said. "Except it's not, because the idiot father of my child is under the impression that you don't approve."

"What?" Ted said. "Dora, where is Remus?"

"You tell me and we'll both know," Dora said bitterly. "I'll deal with him later, because even if I don't agree I at least understand what it is he's trying to do. You two, on the other hand, I am furious with."

Andromeda could barely get over her shock enough to speak, which was probably just as well because Dora was ploughing through her bit.

"Because I know what Remus goes through," Dora said. "I know as well as I can without being in his skin… We were in Diagon Alley just last week and he brushed a woman's arm and apologized, and she recognized him and made a damned _scene_ about a werewolf touching her—it was ridiculous, but there he was apologizing. There are more laws condemning him than there are condemning Death Eaters right now, and it's all prejudice. It's all prejudice. And I told him…"

She looked up for a second and held her breath for just a second longer than she usually would, to stabilize her breathing.

"I told him when I convinced him to finally, _finally,_ marry me that I didn't care about the world," Dora said. "And he finally, finally believed me. But he knows that I care about my family and he's right. I just did not expect my _parents_ to carry that very same prejudice."

"Nymphadora—"

"You raised me on fairy tales," Dora snapped. "Not because you made me believe that the world was beautiful, but because you two went through so much and made it work that I believed that quests and happily ever afters might not be promised, but that they were possible. I don't know what in the world it was that you told Remus or said about him, but I am absolutely sickened that the first two people I ever loved had something so heartless to tell the man I chose that he thinks that his child and I are better off if he goes and gets himself _blown up…"_

"Dora, where is Remus?" Ted said, standing up and holding her arms. "This is important."

"He went to find…" Dora shook her head. "I shouldn't tell you, it's not safe for anybody involved in this climate."

The red slowly faded out of her hair, leaving it its natural, pale brown. It was a shade that matched Andromeda's quite well, but Andromeda didn't like it. When Dora had been born, she and Ted had spent the first hour of her life telling each other who she looked like until she started morphing. Andromeda was not used to looking like her daughter.

"He'll come back," Dora said softly. "I know he will. They won't take him, and he'll see soon. Like I said, I'll deal with him later. But I can hardly be angry with him when you two have made your positions clear."

"Dora, we don't dislike Remus…" Andromeda said.

"That's not the same," Dora said. "That's not the same as giving him a chance, as getting to know him, as accepting him... He has such low standards for how he should be treated, and I dared hope for a little more than tolerance from the two of you. And now that your grandchild is going to be half werewolf, whatever the actual fuck _that_ means, I would highly recommend that you smarten up."

"Dora, don't go," Andromeda said.

But Dora stormed back out.

 _"_ Accio, cloak," Andromeda said.

Ted took the cloak from her hand and simply said, "Let her go."

"Edward Tonks," Andromeda scoffed. "She can't be alone at a time like this."

"And she can't be with us when she's this angry," Ted said.

"What have we done?" Andromeda said. "What did we do wrong?"

"She's pregnant," Ted sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My God, Dromeda, she's pregnant and so mad with us, what _did_ we do wrong?"

"I never…" Andromeda sighed. "He… This was not the life I was _expecting_ for her, but I didn't mean…"

"Neither did I," Ted said.

"She's so mad," Andromeda said. "I've never seen her that angry. I don't know what to make of it… Ted, we're going to be grandparents and our daughter is furious with us. I don't know what to do…"

Neither did he.

* * *

They spent most of that night awake, until Andromeda got out of bed.

"I'm not interested in pretending to be sleeping," Andromeda said. "I'm going to go make some tea and send Dora an owl. Would you care for a cup?"

She marched downstairs and put the kettle on the stove. Unsure of what to do next, she stood by and watched the water boil. Just as steam was starting to rise, she heard Ted glide into the kitchen behind her.

"Andra," Ted said, resting a hand on the small of her back. "I keep thinking… One time, I saw him and Dora when we weren't supposed to be looking. He's stiff and shy and quiet around us, but you should see him with Dora. He looks at her like she's the only thing in the world he could possibly look at. And he had his hand on the small of her back, exactly like I have a hand on you now, and it was gentle and loving. I think that that's a truer Remus, and it's the Remus that she knows. Just like there was a lot in me that your family would never have seen in me…"

"That's not fair," Andromeda said, her mouth pasty.

"No, it's not," Ted agreed. "Because you came from a cruel and bigoted place. But maybe Remus is a very good but very sick man, and we are a little bigoted too."

Andromeda was quiet for a second.

"I don't think I've ever spoken to a werewolf other than Remus," she said quietly.

"Neither have I," Ted said. "That I know of, anyways."

"He was really like that?" Andromeda asked.

Ted nodded.

"That's all I want for her," Andromeda said. "For her to be happy and loved and… That's all I want."

"I know," Ted said. "Did you send that owl, yet?"

"No," Andromeda said. She chewed her lip. "Maybe we should… maybe we should just invite her and Remus over for dinner, the next time it's convenient…"

"Maybe that's the best there is to do," Ted nodded.

"And let's see what Remus likes to eat," Andromeda said. "To see if there's something special we can make."

"That's a good idea," Ted said. "Very Hufflepuff of you, Miss Slytherin."

Andromeda smiled and leaned back onto her husband.

"You know, Professor Slughorn once told me that the most Slytherin thing about me is that once I realized how much I wanted you, I threw everything that stopped me away," Andromeda said. "And perhaps Dora's love manifests itself in that extraordinary kindness of hers."

"Keep up that kind of wisdom, and we're verging on Ravenclaw territory now," Ted said. Andromeda laughed.

* * *

It was as if her arms had locked in their embrace, but Dora had to let her father go eventually.

"Don't try and make contact, we'll likely all be watched. Rumour has it that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is working on a way to track those saying You-Know-Who's name, so kick that habit," she said. "I added a copy of the survival section of the Auror handbook in your bag, I…"

"I'll be alright," her father said, cutting her off. "You be safe and keep an eye on your mother—and my grandchild. I'm so, so excited to meet them."

Dora smiled, and clasped her hands over her stomach. Remus put a hand on the small of her back quickly, before putting something in Ted's hand.

"If you need a place to go," he said quietly, "there's a cottage in Yorkshire—the key is charmed, it will take you there if you apparate with it in your hand. I haven't been in a long time, so I don't think it's in good shape, and with the lycanthropy legislation so up in the air, I'm not sure if it's under surveillance… but if you need it, it's been a home before."

"Thank you," Ted said, shaking his hand. "Stay safe. Stay healthy."

Remus nodded. Ted turned to Andromeda.

"This isn't goodbye, love, but come here," he said, opening his arms.

He gathered her in his arms and she kissed him fiercely.

"This isn't goodbye," she said. "We won't let the purebloods get us down."

"That's right," Ted said into her hair.

* * *

It quickly became apparent that Tonks House was under surveillance, and Dora didn't like the idea of her mum so far away.

"It won't last long," Nymphadora said. "Once they realize that Dad's gone, they'll stop watching the house and you can move back, but until then you should stay with us. You can break in the spare room until the baby gets here…"

Of course, being bribed with her grandchild was immediately effective. While Dora was at work, Remus promised that he would help Andromeda move things and place a few protection charms on things that shouldn't be moved but couldn't be taken.

Andromeda, at the last minute, went back in the house. Remus was patient and followed her for the umpteenth time as she did this, and this time followed her to Dora's old bedroom.

Andromeda knelt and pulled an old box from underneath the bed. It was old baby clothes—hats and shoes and pajamas and a coats and a forget-me-not blue blanket.

"We should bring these," Andromeda said. "It's not everything of hers, but it's enough."

"Yes," Remus agreed. "Here, I'll take it, you've got enough to carry."

When they got back to their flat, which Andromeda hadn't actually seen before, she was impressed by how clean and neat it was. It was simple, of course, but the reading chairs looked broken in, the blankets thrown across the sofas looked warm, herbs sprouted in jars across the kitchen, and there were pictures stuck to the walls with sticking charms.

"It's quite muggle," Remus said. "It's easier to rent from them. If you need help with any of the appliances, please let me know."

"Thank you," Andromeda said quietly.

"Here, this is your room, we've made the bed—there are extra blankets in the cupboard, and Dora said you liked candles so I put some out… Other than that, I'll let you get settled in, but if you need anything…"

"Thank you," she said again. "I'll let you know."

He nodded and quietly excused himself. Andromeda set about folding clothes and tucking them away. There was nothing wrong with the bed, but she remade it. She moved the wedding picture she'd brought with her around the room a few times, tucked her knitting under the armchair, spent some time inspecting the violet on the windowsill…

She heard Dora get home and call out her hellos from the door. When Andromeda looked out to the kitchen, Dora had her arms around her husband's middle and her head rested on his chest. The colour of her hair flickered blues and pinks like northern lights, which Andromeda had only seen when she was sleeping quite profoundly. Dora looked up and Remus kissed her softly.

"This is not what I became an Auror for," Dora sighed.

"I know," he said. "I know, but you're doing so well."

"This is not the world I want for our child…"

"This is a stop along the way, not the destination," Remus said.

"I hope you're right," Dora said. She turned around and poked at the pans that were simmering. "This smells amazing, by the way."

"Thank you," Remus said. "You did tell me that this was your mother's favourite, right?"

"A million years ago, yes," Dora said with a smile. "I'm glad you remembered that."

"Thank God I got that right," Remus said. "I thought it might make her feel better."

"It can't hurt," Dora sighed. She stretched up on her toes and kissed him quickly. "Is she in there?"

Remus nodded and turned back to the bustling stovetop.

"Hey, Mum…" Dora said coming towards the door.

At dinner, Andromeda made sure to tell Remus just how delicious everything was and how had he guessed that she just loved lamb stew?

* * *

Andromeda was used to getting up at the early hours to send Ted off, as he often took the early shifts at St-Mungo's. It was a hard habit to break, and she wasn't particularly interested in doing so since… well, it would make it harder to get back in the routine when Ted came home and the world sorted itself out.

That was why she was awake by sunset, just in time for Remus to come home.

He looked like hell, to be clear. His hair was messy, his lip was split, there were scratches on his face, and a dangerously blue bruise was blooming by his jaw.

"Mrs. Tonks?" he said, surprised to see her. His voice sounded hoarse.

"Hello," she said quietly.

Self-consciously, he walked to the kitchen sink and she looked away. She heard him whisper a healing spell for the lip under his breath and pour himself a glass of water which he quickly gulped down before coming to see her in the sitting room.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"No, that's alright," she said. "I managed to find the kettle."

"Good," he said.

"Are you..?"

"I'm alright," he said quietly. "Trust me, I've looked worst."

That wasn't quite reassuring, the line sounded too practiced.

"Okay," Andromeda said. "Are you always… are you always back this early?"

Remus pondered for a moment.

"No," he said. "I come back to myself quicker now that I'm coming back to her."

Andromeda didn't know what to say to that exactly, but her stomach did twist. There was something sweet about it.

"I think it's the most misunderstood thing," Remus said. "When I was at Hogwarts, I had friends who developed Animagi shapes -Sirius included- to spend nights with me, and the difference it made was just... We cannot choose how human we are under the full moon, but when we are treated humanely… the pain lessens."

Andromeda wasn't sure what to say except for the truth: "I didn't know."

"Very few people do," Remus said. Even if he'd been the one who had spent a hellish night, he said it reassuringly. "Is Dora still sleeping?"

"I think so," she nodded.

Remus nodded again. "I'll try to get a few hours of sleep in before she wakes up, then. It'll make today much easier, if I can manage it."

"Goodnight," she said simply.

"Good morning," he said, before excusing himself and slipping into the bedroom.

* * *

Remus came to check in on her, even after she moved back to Tonks house.

"Dora worries," he said simply. "Besides, nobody should be alone at a time like this."

The visits became more frequent, and Andromeda had a sense that work was harder and harder to find. Especially since Remus increasingly asked if there was anything he could do around the house to help—one week she found a boggart in the cellar and was so, so sure that it would transform into Ted or Dora's cold bodies that she refused to touch it on her own. He went down there and took care of it within fifteen minutes, though he looked pale as a sheet when he came back and informed her that the boggart was dealt with. After that, she found it harder to dismiss him.

Today, he caught her doing laundry and offered to help her hang it up to dry in the yard.

"How's Nymphadora?" Andromeda asked.

"She's well," Remus said. "She says she's finally found a shade of purple that works with her complexion, which she's been excited about all week. She really was sorry that we couldn't come for dinner last Sunday. She's getting the worst hours at work, she thinks it's punitive because of her ties to Kingsley who's just gone on the run, but too petty to be significant. She mostly jokes about it, she's being so strong… And she's so happy. So, so happy. The baby is doing well, she told me that the healers say she's right on track…"

Something about the sentence confused Andromeda. She had told him that the healers told her…

"You can't go with her to St-Mungo's when she has her appointments, can you?" Andromeda suddenly realized. "Not since they banned werewolves from the premises…"

Remus shook his head. Andromeda could tell that he was trying to look composed, but he just looked sad.

"I know they did it out of fear, but they didn't think through about how…" Remus shook his head. "I wait outside. She brings Molly Weasley with her—she's a trained healer herself, you know. She helps Dora navigate the system, work with good healers, get straight answers..."

There was a beat, during which Andromeda could only think of that word Dora had thrown at her months ago, now. _Prejudice_.

"I can't imagine what it's like for you," Andromeda said, trailing her wand to the right to direct the laundry towards the clothesline to dry. "Only a tiny bit. Blood traitors, we are despised by our families, and by other pureblood families of course. But to others, we are heroes."

Remus didn't reply though he was so lost in thought, she knew he must be listening. He waved his wand and a pair of Ted's pants lifted itself up and hung itself on the line. They hadn't been worn recently of course, but Andromeda was in the habit of keeping some of his things freshly washed. In case he came home.

"I recognize that you don't have that," Andromeda said. "Living the life of a pureblood heiress would have killed me, I know it would have. I knew that I would be disowned, but I knew I had a soft place to land, I knew what I was doing, and I consciously chose it. You didn't have a choice."

"I was five years old when I was bitten," Remus said quietly. "It is not so much a question of choice as it is a question of knowing any other life."

Andromeda nodded, but she couldn't quite wrap her head around it. Five years old… A child.

"Nymphadora tells me that you think I dislike you," Andromeda said. Remus looked up, wide-eyed, but Andromeda shook her head. "You don't have to say anything. I know that I am not as warm as she is, or as my husband is for that matter. Not to mention that I am so incredibly protective of Dora… It makes me harder to read, I know. So I want to tell you explicitly: I do not dislike you. You are not the life I imagined for my daughter, but I did not lead the life that was expected of me either. When Dora looks at you, she is the happiest she could be. That's more than enough for me."

Remus nodded. "I love her. I hope you know, for all my faults…"

"Of course I do," Andromeda said. "It's quite clear. And if it weren't, the fact that you are helping me with _laundry_ shows a very clear devotion."

Remus laughed. "I don't mind laundry."

"Well then I'll let you take care of it next week," Andromeda smiled. Remus smiled back.

"Can I ask a silly question?" Andromeda said after a while.

"Of course," Remus said.

"Is it true that werewolves have exceptional hearing, even in human form?" Andromeda asked. She felt bad asking, but the question had been bothering her for weeks, now.

Remus laughed.

"Sorry, I don't mean to laugh—I know there are rumours about all kinds of… No. We don't," Remus said. "Well, _I_ do, but only because I grew up with Sirius Black, which implied constant vigilance, and because I spent a year as a teacher."

"You taught?" Andromeda said.

"For a year, yes," Remus said. "I taught Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. I still tutour a few students every now and then, when they need it."

"I was always rather good at Defense," Andromeda said. "But I dropped it after OWLS, it wasn't exactly considered an important skill in my family."

"I wish I'd been able to stay longer," Remus said. "Teach them more… Of course, this was before You-Know-Who returned, and there was no way to know just how applicable it would be."

"Sometimes I forget you knew Sirius so well," Andromeda said.

"He talked about you all the time," Remus said. "He said you were his cool cousin."

"You know, he used to _love_ muggle motorcycles," Andromeda said. "Whenever I'd come over, he would show me the window that looked out on the muggle street and point out all the bikes that drove by. Of course, that was when he was just a little boy…"

"Oh, he never grew out of that," Remus said. "He got himself one as a graduation present after Hogwarts."

"You're kidding," Andromeda laughed. "I don't believe it!"

"Cross my heart," Remus said. "He even hexed it so it would fly. Our friend Lily nicknamed it the Death Trap."

Andromeda laughed. They hung the laundry, went inside for tea, ran back outside to fetch the laundry when a cold autumn rain swept in, and made more tea ntil Dora sent Remus a patronus wondering where he was. It was only after Remus left that Andromeda realized that they had spent the entire afternoon talking. She had spent the entire afternoon talking with her son-in-law. And between his good listening ear, his knack for storytelling, his easy company, and his shy sense of humour, she saw what it was that Dora liked.

* * *

Remus always picked up Dora at work. It was risky to Apparate pregnant, the implications of splicing were so much worst, and besides, Dora said she liked the routine of it and refused to have their flat linked up to the Floo Network (or "Voldemort's fiery secret tunnels" as she called it now). But today, when he met her near the visitor's entrance, she was pale as a sheet. If he hadn't gotten so good at recognizing her in a variety of shapes and colours, he'd have walked right by her. It wasn't just that her hair had faded to a mousy brown—it fell like a curtain, her eyes were sunken in, and she looked unhealthily thin.

"Dora," he said, worried. She took his arm.

"We have to go to mum's," Dora said in a voice that was too even. "We have to go to mum's house, _now._ "

The second they were there, standing at the end of the driveway leading to the house, Dora let out a breath she must have been holding all day and a sob that broke his heart. She slumped against him, burying her face in his chest.

"Dora," he said, closing his arms around her. "Love, what happened? What…"

"I couldn't leave," she said, her voice hitching with tears. "I couldn't leave because then they'd go after all of us, but that bitch brought the paperwork to me and watched me do it and I just had to do it, Remus, I just had to do it, and I couldn't leave, I couldn't do anything…"

"Dora," he said. "Dora are you..?"

"It's Dad," she said. "The Snatchers got Dad. He's dead, Remus. They filed for the bounty so I know he's dead…"

Remus' stomach sank. "No… Dora, I am so…"

She straightened up, fire in her eyes now. "I have to tell Mum… I moved her file to the bottom of the pile to buy time, but I have to tell her before the Mudblood Commission people do…"

Remus took her arm and they went up the path as quickly as they could. His head was spinning, but he was the only one put together enough to boil water, wrap Dora and Andromeda in blankets, talk their way through the official announcement when the Ministry officials came by, and keep the fire going throughout the night when the two finally fell asleep against each other on the living room couch.

* * *

Since Ted had passed, Dora and Remus were over nearly every night. Andromeda was keenly aware that this was an elaborate ruse to make sure that she got out of bed, walked outside, cooked… Sometimes, there was no conversation. They simply existed in the same sphere and remembered that they were all alive.

Andromeda was supposed to be reading while Remus cleaned up the kitchen and Dora kept him company, but she could hear every word they were saying. They were talking about baby names, which was Andromeda's favourite conversations to eavesdrop on.

"I'm sure it's a girl," Nymphadora said. "I'm basically certain, Remus. You know me, when am I ever wrong?"

"Last night, you were arguing that—"

"Okay, don't answer that."

"But _if_ it's a boy…"

"We don't need to plan for a boy!" Dora laughed. Andromeda heard her splashing dishwater at him.

"You should let me finish," Remus said.

"No, Remus. Now give me a good girl name because I'm not sure I like Annemarie anymore."

"Okay, fine, how about Abigail?"

"Oh… yeah, that's pretty."

"Thank you. But if it's a boy, I think it should be Edward," Remus said quickly so that he wouldn't be interrupted.

Andromeda's stomach twisted on itself.

"Okay," Dora said meekly from the kitchen. "Maybe it can be a boy."

* * *

About two weeks ago, Nymphadora -ever the queen of timing- had announced that she had no intention of having the baby at St-Mungo's on account that Remus wouldn't be present.

This, of course, had sent Remus and her mother on a wild hunt to make alternative arrangements—which Remus had finally managed to do by reaching out to the small wizarding hospital in Wales where he himself had been born. Some of the older healers remembered not only Remus being born, but also Remus being brought there as a small and newly bitten toddler. They were small enough to slip by the Ministry's attention, and promised to find room when the time came.

But all that mayhem was behind them now. Dora was sleeping, Teddy resting on her chest. Remus sat by her side, holding her hand, his thumb tracing circles on the soft part of her palm. Andromeda and Molly had conferred and were both unsure about whether or not he looked relieved that everything had gone well, or anxious as ever.

"Remus," Andromeda said, walking to his side and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Love, he's beautiful."

"You should tell Dora, she did all the work," Remus said. "She… she did this… His hair's even changing, like hers."

"I know you know he's beautiful, Remus. He's your son, of course you think that. What I was trying to say is that Molly and I and the other healers here agree. There's nothing wrong with him—not that lycanthropy is wrong or... I'm trying to say that he's in good health. He's an absolutely normal baby."

Remus scratched the back of his head. "Don't we need to wait until the next full moon…"

"That's enough about the moon," Molly Weasley said, much less patiently than Andromeda was shooting for. Well, that wasn't true, Molly was probably _more_ patient, all things considered. But she had had seven children. She doled out patience very selectively. "Remus, we didn't just give him _a_ check-up. We checked and checked and checked. And we touched him with silver."

"Silver?" Remus asked, bolting to his feet, wide-eyed. "Molly, within the week of the full moon silver _burns…"_

"It burns werewolves," Molly reminded him. "But Teddy didn't react—just like Bill, and everybody else who isn't a werewolf."

Remus' face dropped.

"He… he's okay, then," Remus said.

"I told you so," said Dora groggily, though Andromeda wasn't sure at what point she had joined them. Remus looked at all three women in the room in turn.

"What if he had—what if it had hurt him?" Remus said, stunned.

"I told them to do it," Dora said softly.

"You told them to what?" Remus asked.

"Did you really think I wanted you worrying about this any longer than you had to?" Dora said. "I knew he'd be fine, Remus, look at him…"

Remus looked incredulous for a moment. Then he ran a hand through his hair.

"He's okay," Remus echoed. "It… I didn't…"

"Of course you didn't pass anything on," Molly said. "And of course Teddy is okay. He's more than okay, he's beautiful."

Remus exhaled, and his shoulders visibly decompressed. He buried his face in his hands and when he looked up again the smile on his face was so bright, it was as if Teddy had been born again. He turned back to Dora, but she'd fallen back asleep after expending all her remaining energy on _I told you so_ (a worthy cause), so he turned back to Andromeda and Molly and hugged the both of them. Molly laughed.

"You silly man," Molly said. "What did everyone tell you?"

"I was so afraid for him," Remus said breathlessly.

"We know," Molly said. "Yes, there's us and the whole world knows too. Now why don't you go tell the whole world that he's born now? It's good luck, to spread the word."

"Right," Remus said. "Right, of course it is, I should go while they're sleeping… I'll go to Bill and Fleur's."

"Yes, go do that," Andromeda said.

"Will you be okay?" Remus said. "I'll come back quickly…"

"Go," Andromeda said. "Don't forget your wand."

"Right, wands, useful!" Remus said. On his way out, he kissed Dora's forehead and the top of Teddy's head. "If you need me…"

"We won't, go," Andromeda said. Remus hugged her warmly one more time before going off.

"That man," Molly said with an affectionate sigh. "Doesn't know happiness when it beats him over the head."

"Oh, he does," Andromeda said. "And he's starting to believe in it now too."

She looked over at Dora fondly.

"I remember how ecstatic I was when Dora was born," Andromeda said. "She was a miracle baby, you know. I'd been hexed when I was younger, nobody knew if I could ever have one."

"I didn't know I was having twins until George came," Molly smiled. " _That_ was a good surprise. At the time I'd just had one baby already and very much wanted to be left alone, but it was a good surprise—and it's so rare not to know, the twins still argue to this day over which one's the miracle."

"This one's a miracle baby too," Dora muttered, apparently coming back to herself. "Do you know how hard I had to work to get his father to—"

"Don't say something in front of your mother that you'll regret saying once the potions wear off, dear," Molly said. Andromeda thought that Molly might be overestimating just how shameless her daughter was, but appreciated the thought.

"But yes," Andromeda said. "They're all miracles, I suppose."

* * *

Andromeda was surprised by the banging on her door at such an hour. It was Remus and Dora wearing traveling cloaks, Teddy bundled up in his mother's arms.

"Something's happening at Hogwarts," Remus explained quickly. "There's been a call sent out to Order members…"

"Remus is going," Dora said. "At least one of us has to."

Andromeda blinked once.

"Thank God you came here," Andromeda said. "Nobody should be alone right now—come in, Dora…"

They did, but Remus shook his head when Andromeda motioned to take his cloak.

"Things seem to be moving quickly, the DA will need help. I should go."

He held out his arm, and Dora passed Teddy to him.

"I'll see you in the morning," he whispered to the baby, kissing his head and holding him against his chest, eyes shut. He may have been praying, and when he opened his eyes, he kissed Teddy again.

"I'll take him," Andromeda said quietly. Remus nodded and passed along the baby. When he did, Andromeda wrapped her spare arm around him.

"Be careful," she said quietly.

"I will," he promised. His arms tightened around her. He turned to Dora next, and took a deep breath before gathering her in his arms. His hands cupped her cheeks when he kissed her. Her hands were wound in the front of his cloak. He rested his forehead against her head.

"I love you," Dora said. "Be safe, be smart."

"I promise," he said quietly. "I love you so much. More than you will ever know."

"You can come back later and try to explain some more," Dora said. She let go and looked up, with a smile. He smiled back and looked at Teddy one more time before disappearing into the night.

"Thank God he sleeps as hard as his father," Dora said, reaching for Teddy again. She held him extra close.

"Such a good baby," Andromeda cooed, passing her grandson back. "Why don't you sit, Dora? I'll put the kettle on and make us some tea…"

"Something stronger," Dora said, shaking her head. "If it weren't for Teddy, I'd say a shot of firewhisky."

"How about coffee?" Andromeda said.

"Like coffee," Dora nodded.

"Okay," Andromeda said. "Okay, coffee, why don't you go sit with the baby…"

Dora sat with Teddy, watching the fire crackle in the fireplace, her eyes far away even as she twisted Teddy's curls around her fingers. Andromeda kept busy—she made a pot of coffee and then set up Dora's old crib in the living room, to give Teddy a place to sleep. Once the baby was down, Dora went outside to doublecheck the protective spells and wards she'd put up around the house ages ago, just in case. Then she triple-checked her own wandwork. Andromeda's own jitters weren't helped by the fact that Dora was pacing ceaselessly in the living room. For lack of something better to do, they went through their first pot of coffee extraordinarily quickly. Thankful for something to do, Andromeda went back to the kitchen to make another.

When she walked back into the living room, Dora's traveling cloak was back around her shoulders.

"I can't do it," Dora said. "I just can't. I'm a trained Auror, I can't stay home."

"You're going to Hogwarts?" Andromeda asked.

"I just fed Teddy, he should be okay for a while now," Dora said. She kissed his forehead. "He'll be okay."

"Dora…" Andromeda said.

"Mum, it's going to end tonight," Dora said. "This is the first time You-Know-Who and Harry are anywhere near each other in months, and neither of them will walk away. I can't stay home when it's now or never. I'm an Auror. I'm exactly the kind of help they need right now, and if it's not now… Well, we know exactly what will happen to the half-breeds and the blood traitors and their children if it all crashes. They need every wand they can get."

She lowered Teddy back into his crib softly, her gentleness completely unlike the fierceness with which she'd just announced her plans. When she looked up at her mother, however, Dora's eyes were inquisitive. But of course, this wasn't the kind of question Andromeda could say no to and they both knew it.

Andromeda opened her arms, and Dora crossed the living room to burrow against her mother. Dora wrapped her arms around her neck and hugged her tightly, and for a moment Andromeda imagined that they were on Platform 9 ¾. But Dora wasn't a schoolgirl anymore, Ted wasn't there to send her off, and the promise of Christmas didn't soften the goodbye.

Andromeda pulled away.

"Go betray your blood," she said. "Just like your mother taught you."

Dora smiled and winked, before turning to the door and leaving the house.


End file.
